Living Proof

Yesterday afternoon, Madelene and I went to go to the farm to pick out our Christmas tree. Y'all know me better than to think that I chopped it down myself. (I have no idea why I got all southern on y'all.) It was really nice though, because we walked through the rows of firs, wreaths and homemade ornaments that were so beautiful. There were a ton of assorted Christmassy lanterns hanging up above in various colors that lit up the long outdoor aisles. At the end of the row, I noticed a very large wreath that had homemade red roses made out of nylon or some sort of similar material. It also included large metal rods that were meant to be placed into the ground of someone's graveside. In the middle of the wreath it said, "DAD". I instantly got a lump in my throat and my eyes started to well up with tears. When Madelene finally caught up with me, she looked down and then looked up at me. "Get it, Deb..." I couldn't speak. If I were to try, I'd...

It must be that time of year, because I constantly keep thinking and talking about my dad a lot. It's only been two years since he passed, yet I sometimes feel like he's still here in a way. I still have those dreams, where I wake up in the dream while meeting him, and I always say, "Is it really you, Dad?" And he quickly motions his hands to come over, "Yeah yeah -- it's really me, hurry!" We have a 10 second "meet time" where we hug and say hello and then it's over just. like. that. Poof. Gone. I wake up almost instantly, either smiling or crying. It depends. I do believe these "meetings" in my dreams are real, because I verify it right in the dream itself. "Is it really you?" Or, "Is this real?" -- Meaning, 'am I really and truly seeing you in my dream as an actual meeting' sort of question. But why for only 10 seconds or less? During Mom's last day of radiation when they made her ring a b...

So this is what I've heard: Christmas (Jesus' birthday) was not on December 25th. In fact, it's been said it was some time in November, but the facts are still unknown. On December 21rst marks the shortest day of the year. (Stay with me here.) With the increasing darkness and the lack of vitamin D from the sun, people from way back when were depressed and miserable. Sound familiar? It was harder to find food due to the brutal weather and many people suffered physically as well as emotionally. There were more illnesses, more deaths, more sadness and hopelessness. It's been said that December 25th was given as the biggest celebration of the year so that people all over the world can have something to look forward to on the shortest days on the calendar.  It was a glimmer of hope, a light that shined through the darkness and a day to celebrate, to give gifts and receive love. It was designed to take away depression and hopelessness. Of course, it's a celebration of J...

Thanksgiving is only like two weeks away. Everyone is scattering around making plans to go wherever for a nice turkey dinner to gather with friends and family. This is going to be our first Thanksgiving without Dad. It feels strange to not have him around----period. It feels like there's a missing part of the circle that completes us -- like an opening that somehow needs to be closed. It feels drafty, unsafe, and more so, unpredictable. We want to keep that circle closed so that nobody else falls out. Anyone of us can fall out of this circle we have - and that makes it all too surreal. We do the best we can every single day, trying to cope with our great loss and support one another emotionally. We have been going through 'recovery mode' and trying the best we can to heal, but now, the holidays are approaching. Dad was a huge participant, so it's weighing down our hearts a bit more. Years ago, when I was growing up, we would always spend Thanksgiving home. Our relat...

Yes and no. The holidays seem to be passing us by very quickly as usual, perhaps a bit slower for those who have just recently had a breakup or divorce. We got through Christmas, but then there’s New Year’s Eve, the one night of the year where you actually stay up past 12 midnight and spend time with your closest friends and family, and of course, hopefully the love of your life. If you’re not with the one you love, the entire night (and I speak for most people having been through it) is that you constantly wonder what he or she is doing that very minute. When New Year’s Day and a nice ripe hangover arrives, you’ll be much better off watching marathon episodes of The Honeymooners and popping Advil. It’s done and over with...or is it? You get only one month to rest and BAM -- Valentine’s Day will be creeping up before you know it. I don’t care if you spend that evening with a bunch of single women -- you’re. going. to. think. about. him/her. What a bullshit holiday designed to boost flo...

Years ago, I remember running around doing last minute Christmas shopping used to be fun. I actually did it on purpose. All the decorations were in full bloom, people seemed happier and the overall feel for the holiday was much more evident. Yesterday, as I was driving store to store, I realized it’s no longer that ‘quaint joyous feeling’ - it’s become absolute rage and chaos. Between traffic being backed up for miles and people trying to nudge their way into the mess, one kid almost slammed right into my passenger side of my car. I kept beeping and beeping, but he kept coming. I had to go on the other side of the lane in order to avoid him. Of course, I ‘silent screamed’ at him through my windows with a few choice words, but then, I saw his face. He had the face of a pitiful and stressed out young man. I read his lips: “I’m so sorry! I am so so sorry!” He had his hands up as if he was surrendering. Then it dawned on me: I’m the holiday bitch from hell. The kid really didn’t see me, ev...

What is it about the holidays that puts a fine line between joy & sadness? Some say it’s circumstantial: loss of employment, economy, death of a loved one, divorce or a breakup, etc., etc., etc. But if you think about it, you’ll never see a kid depressed around this time of year. You’ll never see them mope around the house dreading the Christmas decorations being put up or grumbling profanities while putting up the tree. (Yes, I know I’m not being politically correct.) I finally figured out why some of us adults are so grumpy, blue and miserable this time of year: we grew up. For one, our fantasies have been crushed to smithereens. Santa Claus isn’t real. He was dad with a bunch of pillows stuffed inside his shirt. All of our letters to him weren’t “received”, but were granted by mere humans: our parents. (Which we should be grateful for.) But it wasn’t some magical fat man in a red suit riding a sleigh with reindeers. I remember calling the 976 number to see where Santa Clause was...

Growing up, my parents would prepare for Christmas Eve. “The Feast of the Seven Fishes” was always on the menu. My grandma and dad would cook their asses off the day before the big event, well into the night of Christmas Eve. It was an amazing process. The party always started around 6 pm. Our Christmas tree was this huge, fake and tacky monstrosity full of candy canes, tinsel and those big bulbous Christmas lights that could produce enough heat to fry a couple of eggs on. Guests would start packing in, some wearing huge fur coats, four inch heels and flimsy low cut dresses along with the strongest musks omitting through every pore. Their diamonds could blind you if you stared long enough. The same “construction crew” would come in with their fancy clothes, all smelling like they showered in Old Spice. I always went to bed smelling that way because everyone would wanna “pick up the baby” and pinch my cheeks or pull my hair - anything to annoy and scare the living bejeebers out of me. ...

(Yes, that is my dad playing Santa Claus and me in yellow feet pajamas.) During the holidays people can become sad, overwhelmed and cranky. I don’t exclude myself from that sentence either. There are more suicides, family arguments and extreme depression and anxiety. Especially this time of year, people usually think about lost loved ones and people who they have lost touch with throughout their lives. A whole medley of chaotic thoughts get rustled into a mess of psychological bullshit. It happens to the best of us, sane or insane.  It was so much different when we were kids.   Being that this is the most “expensive” time of the year, we tend to look through our archives of achievements or, sometimes, the thought of the lack thereof. It makes you wish that the holidays weren’t so gift-based, as it should be united-based. As we grow older, we morph into different characters, sometimes involving impassiveness towards our own family members and close friends at times. It happens. ...

(Actual photo of dad's lobsters.) Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled to be spending time with the family this Christmas, however, there are a few quirks that need adjusting on many levels when it comes to the whole “Christmas festivities”, which happens to fall on Christmas Eve for us. The entire family rounds up at my parents’ house at 7pm. Every single year, my father makes the feast of 7 fishes, because it’s basically the Italian tradition. During the course of a decade, one by one, each family member has begun to start the process of developing some type of allergy to shellfish. My father, being the retired owner of a fish market down on South Street Seaport in New York---he wouldn’t have Christmas any other way. Fish was it. That was the permanent menu from now on. We don’t know any other way. The first sister to develop a shellfish allergy had the worst reaction of all. She literally blew up like a tick and her throat closed up. She had to be sent to the emergency room. Now, be...